


Tactical Retreat

by breeisonfire



Series: TAG prompt fics [4]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Brotp, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 09:06:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10487217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeisonfire/pseuds/breeisonfire
Summary: akireyta wanted brotp + "remember, if we're caught, I'm deaf and you don't speak english."





	

“Remember, if we’re caught, I’m deaf and you don’t speak English.”

“Is that really the best you can come up with?”

“You weren’t supposed to come back here!”

“Neither were you.”

The noise she makes was not the kind that would be considered appropriate for a lady of her prestige, but John tactfully refrains from pointing this out. He did still want to make it home in one piece. Preferably with his body parts all where they belonged.

Absently, he wondered if this was how Gordon made all of his decisions. A little bit of alcohol and a lot of boredom. Or maybe the other way around. He couldn’t really remember.

...Scott was going to  _ kill _ him.

“You know if we do get caught, the guards are probably going to recognize us, right?”

“It’s all about suggestion, darling.  _ Act _ like you’re not John Tracy.”

“You’re the guest of honor at this party.”

“Has anyone ever told you you have a tendency to be incredibly pessimistic?”

“I’m being realistic. It’s my job.”

“Well, this is mine.”

Again, he swallows his words - sneaking out of a party because her great aunt had attempted to set her up with the most annoying person on the planet was  _ not _ the same as international espionage, even when said party is thrown by her great aunt Sylvia - and follows her down the dark stairway. Almost immediately, she throws her arm out to stop him, catching him in the stomach hard enough to elicit an ‘oof’ from him.

Before he can even see what’s going on, she’s pushing him up against the wall and behind the curtain at the edge of a window, out of sight from the grounds and the stairway. She’s pressed up against him, too and all John can think is,  _ we better not get caught like this. _

It’s not that she isn’t great, it’s that he has literally no interest in her or anyone, and he doesn’t need rumors to reach Gordon and for his younger brother to arrange for his assassination before he’s even been on Earth for a day. Never mind the fact that he and Penny have been friends for years and that Gordon’s currently on Tracy Island, recovering from a 36 hour mission.

Thankfully, they’re not found, and Penny backs away, pats him on the chest, and keeps moving. John follows until they reach outside, and John looks sideways at her.

“Have a plan now?”

“Of course I do. You keep in shape while on Thunderbird Five, don’t you?”

“I regret becoming friends with you.”

“No, you don’t,” she says, peeking outside. “We’re clear.”

John’s surprised by how long it takes them to get caught. He’d known they’d get caught - he’s been trying to decide which brother he’s going to use to run interference (Alan’s the best bet; he can be bribed  _ and _ he’s the youngest, so he tends to get away with more) - so he’s not shocked by the sudden flashlight that clicks on when they reach the outer wall of the fence.

It’s a guard, and he looks as surprised as they are. Probably because Penny had, in lieu of a weapon, thrown her shoes at him. One hits his forehead; the other hits his arm. They both drop harmlessly to the ground, where all three of them take a moment to stare at them.

John’s pretty sure Penny’s had a bit too much to drink. Now Parker’s going to kill him, too.

“What are you two doing out here?” the guard asked.

Penny elbows him before he even opens his mouth, and he remembers her “plan” from before. He casts his mind aimlessly for a language and ends up with Urdu.

He’s not surprised when the guard blinks at him, clearly not understanding. John’s starting to believe Penny has the right idea when a hand grabs his ear. He swears, still in Urdu, as he’s jerked backwards by a very unamused Parker.

He’s so  _ dead _ .

“Parker!” Penny is as unruffled as ever, even if her cheeks are a bit too pink and her shoes are being picked up by a guard, still baffled by their existence. “If you would bring the car around, that would be wonderful.”

“M’lady, your father has arrived,” Parker says. He raises an eyebrow, casting a look at her bare feet.

“Oh,” Penny says. “In that case, I do believe I feel ill. Don’t you, John?”

He’s a moment late with his response. “What? Oh, yes. Terribly ill.”

Parker and Penny are giving him the same unimpressed look. He wonders if they’ve practiced.

“If you’re sure, m’lady,” Parker says.

It’s not until they’re in Fab One, driving away from the party, that Penny turns to him and says, “I think that went rather well.”

“I still regret becoming friends with you.”


End file.
